UC-NRLF 


m, 


LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


GIFT    OF 


Class 


THE  MAN 

WHO 

MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN 


A  LOST  BIOGRAPHY 


ROBERT  WHITAKER 


San  Francisco 

The  Whitaker  and  Ray  Company 

(Incorporated) 


Copyrighted,  1899 

by 
Robert  Whitaker 


To  my  brother,  William  Carey  WJiitaker, 
who  first  led  my  boyish  thoughts  to  consider 
my  personal  relation  to  Jesus  Christ,  and 
whose  example  of  faith  and  fidelity  these 
many  years  has  been  both  consolation  and 
inspiration  to  me,  this  little  'volume  is 

AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED. 


178766 


PROLOGUE. 
THE  STORY  OF  ESAU. 

"  And  Jacob  sod  pottage;  and  Esau  came  in  from 
the  field  and  he  was  faint;  and  Esau  said  to  Jacob,  Feed   "Bread 

T  .  -  and  pottage. 

me,  I  pray  thee,  with  that  same  red  pottage;  for  I  am 
faint;  therefore  his  name  was  called  Edom.  And 
Jacob  said,  Sell  me  this  day  thy  birthright.  And  Esau 
said,  Behold,  I  am  at  the  point  to  die;  and  what  profit 
shall  the  birthright  do  to  me?  And  Jacob  said,  Swear  \ 
to  me  this  day;  and  he  swore  unto  him;  and  he  sold 
his  birthright  unto  Jacob.  And  Jacob  gave  Esau  bread 
and  pottage  of  lentils;  and  did  eat  and  drink,  and  rose 
up,  and  went  his  way;  so  Esau  despised  his  birthright." 

Genesis,  XXV,  29-34. 


THE   MAN 

WHO   MIGHT   HAVE   BEEN 

BY 

ROBERT    WHITAKER 

I. 
THE  MAN  WHO  WAS. 

He  died  at  noontime,  in  the  noontide  of  the  year. 
Like  one  of  old,  whom  otherwise  he  least  resembled,  "In  such 

an  hour  as 

death  met  him  in  the  fullness  of  his  powers.  "  His  eye  ye  think  not. 
was  not  dim,  nor  his  natural  force  abated."  One 
moment  he  talked  with  his  beloved  about  the  common 
things  of  daily  life — about  the  midday  meal.  Another 
moment  and  his  heart  had  ceased  to  beat,  the  color 
had  fled  from  his  cheeks,  the  strong  limbs  were  limp 
and  helpless,  and  the  watchers  in  hushed  accents  and 
with  frightened  faces  whispered,  "  He  is  dead." 

And  then  the  word  went  out  over  all  the  land.  And 
a  thousand  pens  were  busy  reciting  the  story  of  his 
life.  For  weeks  the  types  were  burdened  with  his 
name.  There  were  innumerable  repetitions  of  a  few 
familiar  facts.  There  were  judgments,  diverse  in  form 
and  particular  statement,  but  strikingly  unanimous  in 
substance  and  intent.  And  there  were  homilies  not  a 
few,  according  to  the  standpoint  from  which  each 

—7— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

writer  wrote.  The  orthodox  pointed  a  moral  in  accord- 
"Demortuis      ance  with  their  faith.    The  liberal  did  likewise.     Few 

nil  nisi 

bonum."  there  were  of  any  faith,  or  no  faith  at  all,  who  after  the 

elemental  facts  were  stated,  and  the  judgment  on  this 
life  pronounced,  did  not  find  therein  something  to 
sustain  their  standards,  and  fortify  them  in  their  be- 
liefs. 

There  was  an  unexpected  tenderness  in  all  the  com- 
ment upon  him,  even  from  the  pens  of  those  whom  he 
had  most  hated  and  opposed.  Some  indeed  suggested 
that  perchance  his  opinions  concerning  both  history 
and  destiny  had  experienced  very  considerable  modi- 
fication since  his  sudden  exit  from  this  mundane 
sphere  into  the  vast  unknown.  But  there  was  no  ring 
of  exultation  that  an  enemy  was  gone,  no  impeach- 
ment of  his  motives,  no  attempt  to  hide  his  merits,  no 
manifestation  of  the  bitterness  which  his  opponents 
had  sometimes  shown  in  earlier  years.  There  was  pity 
for  his  loved  ones,  praise  for  his  personal  excellencies, 
compassion  over  his  mistakes.  The  world  laid  him 
away  reluctantly,  and  yet  with  no  profound  regret, 
except  that  being  what  he  was  he  had  not  been  the 
man  he  might  have  been.  And  over  his  grave  friend 
and  foe  alike  confessed  the  huge  failure  of  his  life. 
The  confession  was  not  always  clear  and  plainrbut  the 
word  was  there  in  nearly  every  case,  even  when  cov- 


The  Man 

W ho  Might  Have  Been. 

ered  to  the  careless  eye  with  rhapsody  and  eulogy,  and 
buried  deep  under  fading  flowers  of  speech.    Some  so   «A  tale 
far  forgot  what  he  might  have  been  as  they  remem-  * 
bered  what  he  was  that  they  almost  said  his  life  was  a 
success.    Yet  at  the  last  these  also  caught  themselves, 
and  owned  with  tears  or  forced  sighs  something  of  dis- 
appointment and  regret. 

Concerning  these  few  facts  they  were  all  in  general 
agreed.  He  was  born  when  the  first  third  of  our  cen- 
tury had  slipped  away,  and  his  years  were  done  just 
before  the  century  closed.  His  father  was  a  preacher 
of  the  faith  so  hated  and  combated  by  the  son.  A 
Congregational  clergyman,  when  the  ancestral  faith 
of  New  England  was  still  bound  more  or  less  with  the 
grave  clothes  of  medievalism,  this  father  had  not  lived 
an  altogether  tranquil  life.  His  pastorates  were 
many,  and  as  to  most  of  them  their  time  was  short. 
He  worked  slowly  westward,  and  at  the  age  of  ten  the 
lad  with  honey  on  his  lips  found  himself  in  the  young 
and  thriving  commonwealth  of  Illinois.  Here  the  boy 
grew  to  manhood's  years.  He  had  never  loved  the 
faith  of  his  father,  perhaps  because  the  father  suffered 
unjust  accusation  and  petty  persecution  from  those 
who  thought  they  loved  it  more.  Perhaps  the  boy's 
revolt  was  helped  by  the  very  strictness  of  his  training, 
for  in  after  years  he  spoke  mockingly  and  with  bitter- 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

ness  of  the  Sundays  of  his  boyhood,  when  he  was  com- 
"  Melancholy  pelled  to  go  to  church  two  or  three  times  a  day,  with 
Sunday  School  sandwiched  in  between,  and  gave  this 
rigid  training  as  a  cause  of  his  unbelief.  Whatever 
the  cause,  the  fact  was  soon  apparent  that  here  was  no 
mild  skeptic,  no  indifferent  deserter  from  the  popular 
belief.  He  derided  the  faith  which  his  father  had 
preached,  and  as  the  power  and  popularity  of  his  un- 
scrupulous attacks  upon  it  were  made  manifest  to  him 
the  virulence  of  his  language  and  the  bitterness  of  his 
opposition  to  it  seemed  to  increase.  He  turned  to  law 
and  politics  for  his  livelihood,  but  reaped  a  fortune 
from  his  lectures  against  the  Bible  and  the  Christian 
belief.  Yet  he  suffered  loss  and  disadvantage,  it  was 
said,  rather  than  surrender  one  iota  of  his  liberty  of 
speech,  his  right  to  unrestricted  utterance  of  his 
thought.  But  whether  he  suffered  more  for  love  of 
liberty  than  for  hate  of  religion  who  shall  say?  There 
was  a  day  when  he  might  have  been  Governor  of 
Illinois,  and  beyond  that  shining  goal  were  other  sum- 
mits of  political  attainment  which  seemed  to  invite  his 
feet.  But  rather  than  consent  to  be  silent  concerning 
the  thing  which  he  most  detested,  which  was  more 
loved  of  the  common  heart  than  he  ever  guessed,  he 
laid  aside  his  ambition,  and  helped  another  to  the 
place.  He  won  some  measure  of  political  renown  by 

-10- 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

his  fair  eulogies  of  the  Plumed  Knight,  yet  did  not 

help  his  leader  to  the  honor  which  he  asked  for  him.   "AS  a  symbol 

of  love  in 

In  war  he  played  an  inconspicuous  and  quite  indiffer-  heaven.- 
ent  part.  As  a  lawyer  he  succeeded,  not  as  one  pro- 
foundly versed  in  law,  nor  as  one  whose  probity  was 
beyond  that  of  his  fellows  at  the  bar,  but  as  a  gifted 
advocate,  with  power  to  picture  things  in  words,  and 
sway  awhile  the  hearts  of  men.  And  his  home  life,  it 
was  everywhere  reported,  was  very  fair  to  see.  He  was 
the  faithful  husband,  the  fond  and  careful  father.  The 
women  of  his  household  worshiped  him,  who  gave 
them  back  a  fullness  of  love  and  homage  such  as  too 
many  wives  and  daughters  seek  in  vain.  They  knew 
no  other  worship  than  the  love  of  one  another.  It  was 
only  moonlight  on  the  water,  as  our  own  Longfellow 
sang,  but  they  saw  so  much  of  beauty  in  it  they  would 
not  lift  their  eyes  to  see  the  planets  overhead,  while  he 
laughed  derisively  at  others  who  preferred  the  glory 
of  the  sky  to  its  best  reflection  in  life's  shadowed 
stream.  And  while  he  laughed  the  shadow  from  above 
fell  suddenly  upon  him,  and  the  glory  at  his  feet  died 
away.  And  many  said,  "  He  was  honest."  Many  said, 
"  He  was  clever."  Many  said,  "  He  was  kind  and 
true."  But  because  of  him  many  kept  sad  eyes  upon 
the  stream,  looking  for  love,  and  happiness,  and  hope, 
nor  found  them  as  he  had  found  them  for  a  little  while, 

—11— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

because  the  stream  was  darker  and  swifter  where  they 
"Audits  stood.     And  when  they  were  urged  to  look  upward 

image  here."  where  there  was  light  for  all  they  mockingly  made 
answer,  "  Nay,  there  is  nothing  up  there.  He  said  so, 
and  his  words  were  wonderfully  sweet  and  good. 
Somewhere  in  the  stream  he  found  the  glory  that  we 
seek.  He  would  not  lift  eyes  upward,  why  should  we, 
since  he  taught  us  that  the  upward  look  is  all  a  hollow 
cheat?"  And  even  his  beloved,  whom  he  had  taught 
to  think  that  the  shimmering  glory  on  the  stream  was 
the  only  bright  reality,  still  looked  into  the  dark 
waters,  although  the  glory  was  altogether  gone.  But 
all  who  had  caught  the  beauty  of  the  moon  and  stars, 
and  the  measureless  depth  of  the  sky  that  was  softly 
reddening  toward  the  dawn,  sighed  as  they  remem- 
bered the  music  of  his  voice,  and  looked  on  the  beauty 
of  his  face,  and  said,  Alas!  Alas! 
*  *  * 


—12— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 


II. 

THE  MAN  WHO  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN. 

Back  in  his  boyhood  years  there  came  a  change. 
Of  the  details  of  that  experience  he  could  never  speak,   '"The  heavenly 

vision." 

but  the  same  Jesus  who  was  seen  by  the  persecutor 
of  Tarsus  was  made  manifest  to  the  understanding  of 
this  lad,  already  far  more  concerned  than  he  himself 
apprehended  with  the  problems  of  the  soul.  He  stood 
on  a  little  rise  in  a  great  sweep  of  western  prairie. 
The  sun  was  setting  beyond  the  river,  with  its  fringe 
of  trees.  The  mood  of  evening  was  upon  him,  and  the 
silence  of  the  closing  day  seemed  more  of  the  inner 
man  than  of  the  world  without.  And  in  that  silence 
the  still  small  voice  of  the  ever-living  Christ  spoke 
plainly  to  his  heart.  There  was  a  little  while  of  over- 
whelming self-consciousness.  Like  Peter,  when  he 
cried  aloud,  "  Depart  from  me;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man, 
O  Lord,"  the  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness  was  so 
strong  upon  him  that  he  could  not  stand  and  face  the 
setting  sun.  Down  on  his  face  in  the  swaying  grass 
he  fell,  and  lay  there  for  a  time  like  one  who  was  dead.  v 
When  he  lifted  up  his  face  it  seemed  as  if  the  glory 
that  had  faded  from  the  skies  had  been  gathered  into 
his  eyes.  He  sat,  unspeaking  or  unmoving,  till  the 

—13— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

darkness  about  him  had  obscured  every  feature  of  the 
"Not con-          landscape.    It  was  so  light  within  that  he  waked  with 

formed  but 

transformed."  surprise  at  the  call  of  a  familiar  voice  to  the  conscious- 
ness that  it  was  dark  without.  Then  rising  slowly  to 
his  feet  he  walked  with  bared  head  under  the  smiling 
stars  until  his  father's  house  was  reached.  No  word 
of  his  experience  passed  between  father  and  son,  or 
any  member  of  the  family.  Yet  it  soon  appeared  that 
the  young  man  was  transformed.  He  was  not  less 
loving,  nor  less  sprightly  in  his  bearing  and  his 
speech.  But  he  was  vastly  more  reverent,  more  sym- 
pathetic, more  in  touch  with  the  heart  of  men  and 
things.  The  difference  deepened  rather  than  grew  less 
as  the  days  advanced.  He  was  reticent  about  confess- 
ing his  faith  at  first,  but  it  could  not  be  concealed. 
And  though  there  lingered  something  of  his  former 
skepticism  as  concerned  the  things  which  were  least 
fundamental  in  his  new-found  faith,  his  devotion  to  the 
Man  of  Nazareth  was  so  complete,  so  over-mastering, 
that  it  could  not  be  gainsaid. 

There  is  little  need  to  trace  his  public  career.  He 
had  himself  inclined  to  law  and  politics,  and  there 
were  many  prepared  to  prophesy  for  him  the  largest 
measure  of  success  in  court  and  state.  But  his  passion 
for  the  great  realities,  God,  and  Immortality,  and  his 
intense  devotion  to  the  Christ  of  God,  swept  away  all 

—14— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

small  considerations  of  gain  and  honor,  as  chips  and 

straws  are  borne  on  the  rising  tide  of  the  mighty  Mis-   "Open  thy 

mouth  for  the 

sissippi  when  the  spring-time  rains  descend.  He  turned 
of  inward  necessity  toward  the  pulpit,  and  rose  with 
rapid  bounds  to  share  the  pre-eminence  among  the 
princely  preachers  of  America  with  his  life-long  friend 
and  fellow  laborer,  Beecher.  From  the  little  country 
church  where  his  ministry  began  he  was  called  to  the 
Church  of  the  People  in  Chicago.  Here  for  thirty 
years  he  exercised  such  an  influence  as  few  Americans 
have  known.  He  was  the  champion  of  all  the  op- 
pressed and  heavy  laden.  In  him  the  fugitive  slave 
found  an  advocate  whose  eloquent  appeal  touched  the 
very  shackles  with  such  fervent  heat  that  it  seemed  as 
if  they  melted  at  his  words.  The  Union  had  no  nobler 
champion  in  the  dark  days  of  the  Civil  War.  And  as 
the  tides  of  social  discontent  rose  higher  and  higher  in 
the  metropolis  of  the  West  his  was  the  voice  which  in 
the  name  of  the  Man  of  Galilee  stilled  the  storm  and 
calmed  the  waters  of  the  sea.  He  was  the  friend  of 
the  workingman,  the  self-sacrificing  pleader  for  the 
poor,  the  prophet  of  the  better  civilization,  whose  dawn 
he  helped  to  hasten,  when  every  man  shall  call  his  fel- 
low, brother,  and  the  war  of  selfish  commercialism 
shall  have  an  end.  His  speech  on  the  occasion  of  the 
Anarchist  Riots,  will  the  world  ever  forget?  His  words 

—15— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

were  like  blazing  thunderbolts  as  he  hurled  sarcasm, 
"And  plead       story,  epithet  and  invective  in  the  faces    of    all    who 

the  cause  of 

the  poor  and  warred  with  the  reign  of  law.  Beecher's  triumph  at 
Liverpool  when  he  turned  the  tides  of  English  sympa- 
thy for  the  North  was  enacted  over  again.  Some  who 
heard  him  say  that  it  seemed  to  them  as  if  they  stood 
in  old  Jerusalem,  within  the  temple  walls,  and  saw  the 
wrathful  Nazarene  with  His  whip  of  small  cords,  and 
His  burning  eyes  as  He  drove  the  money  changers 
from  the  sacred  courts.  So  did  this  young  preacher, 
in  the  prime  of  his  years,  whip  the  modern  Pharisees 
from  the  courts  of  social  justice  where  they  bought 
and  sold  and  trafficked  in  the  blood  of  men.  For  his 
was  no  vile  vituperation  of  the  red-flagged  anarchists 
of  public  disrepute,  whom  indeed  he  did  not  spare. 
Yet  his  words  for  them  were  as  melted  butter  to  molten 
metal  as  compared  with  his  scathing  of  the  selfish  rich, 
the  unscrupulous  well-to-do,  the  easy-going  Pharisees 
of  the  labor  market  who  have  entered  into  the  inheri- 
tance of  the  men  who  crucified  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.  From  that  hour  till  the  moment  when  death 
touched  him  he  was  the  leader  of  the  new  crusade 
against  the  slavery  of  man  to  man  for  meat  and  drink. 
In  this  he  made  his  enemies,  both  in  church  and  state. 
But  there  was  withal  so  much  of  the  gentleness  and 
unselfishness  of  the  Christ  whom  he  adored  in  his 
—16— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

manner  and  his  speech,  so  much  of  natural  charm  in 
his  bearing  toward  those  who  most  opposed  him,  that  "The  greatest 
he  conquered  often  where  he  was  hated  most.  He  was  if  " 
not  profound,  either  as  a  preacher  or  as  an  advocate 
of  social  reform.  There  were  flaws  without  number 
in  both  his  sermons  and  his  lectures.  But  the  great 
heartedness  of  the  man,  the  intense  earnestness  and 
sincerity  with  which  he  spoke,  his  vital  hold  upon  the 
great  issues  of  life  present  and  life  to  come,  his  happy 
harmony  of  that  due  regard  for  the  realities  of  the 
unseen  and  the  problems  of  the  world  that  now  is,  and 
above  all  his  exaltation  of  Jesus  Christ,  whom  he 
served  with  the  faith  and  fervor  of  an  apostle,  com- 
bined to  make  him  altogether  the  most  attractive 
figure  in  the  pulpit  of  our  land. 

This  might  have  been  the  case  had  he  been  no  more 
than  the  great  preacher  and  social  leader  already  set 
forth.  But  the  larger  half  of  his  service  to  the  world 
was  his  exaltation  of  every-day  religion.  His  home  life 
was  a  dream  of  happiness,  a  sermon  far  more  eloquent 
than  even  his  honeyed  lips  could  command.  No  man 
among  us  has  done  more  for  marital  fidelity,  parental 
responsibility  and  domestic  Christianity  than  did  this 
pulpit  prince.  He  counted  it  the  happiest  part  of  his 
ministry  to  extol  those  relations  which  next  to  man's 
relation  with  his  God  excite  the  profoundest  emotions 

—17— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

of  the  heart.  There  was  a  certain  fitness  in  him  for  this 
"Death-toiife   task.    He  loved  as  few  men  love,  and  glorified  the 

crown  or 

shame."  home,whose  light  he  was  so  many  years,  with  a  bright- 

ness only  heaven  can  equal  or  excel.  And  next  to  that 
wonderful  devotion  which  he  had  for  Jesus  Christ,  aye 
better  it  were  to  say  as  a  part  of  it,  his  devotion  to  wife, 
and  children,  and  home,  and  the  words  of  matchless 
eloquence,  in  which  he  extolled  and  exalted  domestic 
virtues  and  family  life,  have  endeared  him  beyond  all 
expression  to  millions  of  people  the  wide  world  over 
who  have  hung  upon  his  lips  or  followed  his  teaching 
on  the  printed  page. 

Death  gave  no  word  of  warning,  but  kissed  him 
quickly  on  the  lips  and  charmed  him  into  silence  ere 
one  of  the  millions  who  would  have  kept  him  could 
interpose  a  word.  He  smiled,  and  followed  swiftly  into 
the  blessed  land  where  so  many  whose  burdens  he  had 
lightened,  whose  faith  in  higher  things  he  had 
strengthened  against  doubts  and  fears,  waited  for  him, 
with,  we  may  dare  to  think,  some  heavenly  impatience 
to  catch  his  eye  and  hear  his  voice  again.  No  wonder 
that  all  men  mourned  him.  The  liberal  loved  him  for 
his  services  to  the  larger  faith.  The  orthodox  for  his 
supreme  devotion  to  the  heart  of  Christ  and  the  sub- 
stance of  the  Gospel.  The  Catholic  spake  him  kindly 
for  his  gentleness  and  tolerance,  the  Protestant  for  his 
—18— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

frankness  and  his  courage,  the  poor  for  his  self-deny- 
ing labors  in  their  behalf,  and  all  men  for  his  manly,  "o  Absalom 
fearless  bearing  in  his  chosen  walk.  Even  the  infidel 
had  a  kindly  word  for  this  champion  of  the  Christian 
faith,  for  though  he  had  shown  the  foolishness  and 
hollowness  of  unbelief,  and  punctured  with  his  wit  the 
inconsistencies  and  absurdities  of  every  school  of 
skepticism,  he  had  so  borne  himself  that  all  men  bowed 
their  heads  in  reverence  beside  his  grave.  And  when 
they  laid  him  away  the  glory  of  undimmed  sunslime 
so  filled  his  grave  that  men  were  astonished  and 
looked  at  one  another  with  wonder,  and  on  every  eye 
the  tears  were  touched  with  splendor,  as  if  each  drop 
reflected  the  rainbow  of  eternal  hope. 


—19— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 


EPILOGUE. 
THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY  OF  PAUL. 

"  If  any  other  man  thinketh  to  have  confidence  in 
"jesus  the  flesh,  I  yet  more:  circumcised  the  eighth  day,  of 

only." 

the  stock  of  Israel,  of  the  tribe  of  Benjamin,  a  Hebrew 
of  the  Hebrews;  as  touching  the  law  a  Pharisee;  as 
touching  zeal,  persecuting  the  church ;  as  touching  the 
righteousness  which  is  in  the  law  found  blameless. 
Howbeit,  what  things  were  gain  to  me,  these  have  I 
counted  loss  for  Christ.  Yea  verily,  and  I  count  all 
things  to  be  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ  Jesus  my  Lord :  for  whom  I  suffered  the  loss 
of  all  things,  and  do  count  them  but  dung,  that  I  may 
gain  Christ,  and  be  found  in  him,  not  having  a  right- 
eousness of  mine  own,  even  that  which  is  of  the  law, 
but  that  which  is  through  faith  in  Christ,  the  righteous- 
ness which  is  of  God  by  faith:  that  I  may  know  him, 
and  the  power  of  his  resurrection,  and  the  fellowship 
of  his  sufferings,  becoming  conformed  unto  his  death : 
if  by  any  means  I  may  attain  unto  the  resurrection 
from  the  dead.  Not  that  I  have  already  obtained,  or 
am  already  made  perfect:  but  I  press  on,  if  so  be  that 
I  may  apprehend  that  for  which  also  I  was  appre- 
hended by  Christ  Jesus.  Brethren,  I  count  not  myself 
—20— 


The  Man 

Who  Might  Have  Been. 

yet  to  have  apprehended:  but  one  thing  I  do,  forget- 
ting the  things  which  are  behind,  and  stretching  for-  "  A  crown 

of  firlory.'* 

ward  to  the  things  which  are  before,  I  press  on  toward 
the  goal  unto  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus." 

*  *     * 

"  For  I  am  already  being  offered,  and  the  time  of 
my  departure  is  come.  I  have  fought  the  good  fight, 
I  have  finished  the  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith :  hence- 
forth there  is  laid  up  for  me  the  crown  of  righteous- 
ness, which  the  Lord,  the  righteous  judge,  shall  give 
to  me  at  that  day:  and  not  to  me  only,  but  also  to  all 
them  that  have  loved  his  appearing."  (Philippians, 
III,  4-14;  II.  Timothy,  IV,  6,  7,  8.  The  Revision.) 

*  *     * 


—21— 


178766 


